


A Night in India

by Chaerring



Series: Chance Meetings [2]
Category: Marvel (Movies), The Avengers (2012), Thor (2011)
Genre: Drunken promises, F/M, Forget it, Gen, He's not more romantic than Hulk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-30
Updated: 2012-05-31
Packaged: 2017-11-06 07:01:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/416074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chaerring/pseuds/Chaerring
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometime in Darcy's fifth week abroad when she hadn't washed her hair in three days and her pants in something like five, she realized that if she posted what she was doing on Facebook no one would believe her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Darcy

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own either character!
> 
> Thank you so much to TheGreatSporkWielder for trying to curtail the number of WIPS I have I really do appreciate it. It's not her fault I am a "sneaky little bastard."
> 
> IMPORTANT NOTICE: For all your Bruce/Darcy and Hulk/Darcy needs I am establishing a chatroom which I shall endeavor to have open whenever I am online. It's through AIM and it's called: ElectricGreen 
> 
> Please come and join us in discussion!

After the BAMF (Big Asgardian Metal Firey) Thing attacked Puente Antiguo and SHIELD returned all of Jane's research, plus gave Jane multiple assistants with actual science masters and doctorate degrees, Darcy was at a bit of a loss. She was no longer useful. Jane kept her busy doing simple office stuff and fetching coffee until her internship was up and made sure she got a shiny A++ on her transcripts that finished out her degree, but then Darcy was suddenly cut free. She had have expected-- _half hoped_ \--that SHIELD wouldn't let her out their sight, that she'd get some amazing job offer or at least be pulled in as an office grunt, but instead she found herself with nothing except a piece of paper to say she had done enough work for the world to consider her vaguely qualified to participate in intense discussions about the possibilities of governments' futures. 

To say she was unsatisfied would be like saying Thor was a good looking man. It just didn't hold the kind of weight and significance you needed to get the point across.

So, Darcy took her grandmother's advice. She left her smartphone behind for the simplest cellular she could get, bought some prepaid international phone cards, and used the money she'd saved by using scholarships on plane tickets so she could back pack through the lesser visited tourist sights of the world. She almost gave her dad a heart attack when she told him what she was doing, but that was par for the course. 

Sometime in her fifth week abroad when she hadn't washed her hair in three days and her pants in something like five, she realized that if she posted what she was doing on Facebook no one would believe her. She found it an extremely liberating thought and proceeded to celebrate it with a little bit of alcohol that was flowing freely in a small Indian town after a wedding, or during a wedding. Darcy wasn't quite sure. Everyone was happy though, and definitely willing to share with odd American vagabonds passing through. 

Apparently, Darcy wasn't the only one to have stumbled into their celebrations. A rather round woman in the brightest clothing Darcy had ever seen (brighter even than her little sister's rave tutus, which made it really impressive) led her to a corner where an older man in a rumpled patched up suit was sitting with a small smile on his face. Darcy was promptly pushed down onto the cushions next to him as the woman sat across from them, staring intently. After a moment of confusion on Darcy, and the Rumpled Man's part, the Indian woman flapped her hands at them urging them to communicate.

"Soooo.....You're American I'm guessing?"

Darcy's head snapped around when he opened his mouth. Dear God, the man's voice was like liquid chocolate to her slightly drunken ears.

"Yep, born and bred. You, too?"

He nodded and sipped what looked like tea to her.

"Yeah. What brings you to India?"

Darcy wrinkled her nose and sighed.

"Soul searching. I'm backpacking trying to figure out what to do with my life. I got a political science degree, but something happened while I was finishing my credits and...."

She waved her hand around a bit.

"It just seemed a little pointless when I got done."

He nodded and gestured with his cup.

"I know what you mean. For me it was a lab accident. So now I wander the world."

So you're some sort of doctor?"

"Yeah. Some sort of."

She nodded taking that for what it was and then stuck out her hand.

"Darcy."

He looked surprised for a moment, but returned her gesture easy enough.

"Bruce."

Suddenly, the woman across from them erupted in excited chatter and yelled at another group of women sitting not to far away. They all converged on the table just a chattering away. Darcy leaned closer to Bruce.

"You getting any of that?"

He chuckled.

"About one word in ten. I haven't been in this part of India very long."

"Better than what I'm getting. What do you think?"

"Either they're discussing recipes, or someone's getting engaged. I'm not quite sure."

"Huh. You wouldn't think those two things would be so similar."

"Actually, it's pretty fascinating. A lot of Indian engagement customs involve exchanges of food between the brides and grooms families..."

He turned and she finally took a good long look at his face. The doctor was handsome, ; almost old enough to be her father, she mused, but very handsome in his own way.

"I’m sorry, you probably aren't interested in that."

Darcy grinned. She might not be interested in it too much, but he had been making it interesting.

"You're interesting enough, Doc."

To her surprise a blush tinged his cheeks.

"Ah...thank you."

His head turned sharply.

"They _are_ talking about an engagement."

"Oh yeah? Whose?"

His eyes cut sideways and he sucked in a breath.

" _Ours._ "

Darcy laughed.

"Is that so?"

His eyebrows rose.

"You think it's funny?"

She nodded and leaned closer to him.

"It's not like they'll be able to force us into getting married, and I've got the feeling being your wife wouldn't be a horrible thing, anyway. You're a doctor and you're nice enough to blush at a simple compliment. You can't be the devil in disguise like my grandma says some men are."

He looked away and Darcy probably just imagined the way his beautiful brown eyes caught the light of a candle and turned green for a moment.

"I might have anger management issues, a wife back home, or five mouths to feed."

Darcy leaned back and considered his statement. It was obviously one of those "Can you tell which two are the lies and which is the truth?" kind of things. 

"If you were worried about mouths to feed or a wife, you wouldn't be wandering the world, I don't think. So you must have anger management issues. At least you've recognized your problem. I still think you're pretty eligible."

"Aren't you a little young for me?"

"Not in India, and it's only really scandalous if you're rich and I'm a gold digger. If we were nice enough to each other, people would forget about our ages pretty quick, I'm sure."

She took great pleasure in his slightly gaping mouth.

"You really mean that."

"Sure, why not? How about we make it a conditional engagement? In the morning, you go one way, and I go the other. If we ever meet again, we promise to get married, as long as we aren't currently attached to someone else."

His mouth hung open a little further at that, and Darcy couldn't resist leaning over to kiss him. It sent the women gathered around them into a flutter of bright colors, but Darcy didn't care. She might have indulged herself just a touch on the free flowing alcohol. She had just begun to think he wouldn't kiss back when she felt his hand, slightly calloused, but pleasantly warm and dry against her cheek, pulling her closer. She gripped his shirt and marveled at the gentle way his lips glided over hers. She hadn't washed her hair in over half a week, but his other hand was still tangling itself into her curls. Just as she was about to screw their flock of spectators and sling her leg over his lap, he pulled back.

"Darcy..."

She smiled and pressed her forehead to his.

"Bruce....What do you say?"

He licked his lips just once and totally had to have noticed the way she looked down to stare at the motion. 

"I say....I say, okay."

Darcy whooped and kissed him again.

True to the arrangement, after spending a pleasant night in conversation, interspersed with kisses, Darcy and Bruce left the small Indian town in separate directions the next morning.


	2. Bruce

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce's point of view of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: None of the characters are mine.
> 
> Thanks bunches to TheGreatSporkWielder for sitting on me until this was finished, and then staying up to beta it.
> 
> Thank you all so much for your comments and kudos!

After South America and a few obscure islands in Oceania, Bruce felt it was time to move on to a new place where his skills could be put to constant and exhausting use. So he boarded a plan to India and began traveling through the crowded country. There was always someone sick. Always someone for him to help. It gave him purpose, and kept him moving. It kept him thinking, exhausted, and just annoyed enough at frustrating family members to keep the anger alive and The Other Guy at bay. Taking care of the sick was a good deal for him. He got a little money, shelter and food when they could be spared, always at least enough for transport to the next town or city and that was all he needed. His clothes were old and getting holes here and there, but Indian women were kind when you helped their family members' bodies heal, so he stayed patched and darned well enough to never have to buy anything new.

As a general principle, he avoided Indian celebrations. Weddings especially were horrible. They lasted for days on end and it was nearly impossible to get away from them until they were finished because of blocked streets and the impossibility of getting someone to take you anywhere else. It was only by accident he got caught in a wedding. He had just been making a last check up on a family that had managed to pass a stomach virus back and forth among themselves for two weeks, when the house had suddenly been invaded by people of richer dress. He had nearly gone out a window before they managed to stop him and pull someone forward that could speak broken English. Eventually they were able to communicate enough for him to willingly join them on the road to another nearby town where the mother of a groom was ailing. 

Fortunately, it was someone Bruce could diagnose and prescribe for. Unfortunately, he was invited to the rest of the wedding celebrations in addition to being given a rather generous sum of money for his services. It was also nearly impossible to find a drink that wasn't spiked during the celebrations. He had tried to find the kids' section and take his cup from there, but given the taste and the way he was steadily losing the edge of paranoia that had kept him alive and free for the past few years, he had failed at finding a non alcoholic beverage entirely. The best thing for him to do was sit in a corner and wait for it to wear off and then get the hell out before his relaxed inhibitions and fairly happy feelings gave The Other Guy an opportunity.

He was only slightly surprised when the woman he had helped heal appeared before him towing a young Caucasian woman and pushed her down next to him on another cushion. It was obviously a matchmaking attempt as more payback for the treatment. Bruce was determined not to fall for it. At least, he had been until the matron started flapping her hands at them.

Deciding to be daring, he tried to glance at the woman and ended up staring instead. She was beautiful. Like him, she was in grimy traveling clothes and probably hadn't seen soap in a few days, but she was gorgeous anyway. Her curves were generous, but not unhealthy. Her lips were plump, like berries he wouldn't have minded getting a taste of, and even dirty he thought the rich brown curls she had piled on her head could have made her look like a goddess had they been in another country. 

"So.....You're American, I'm guessing?"

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Bruce was cursing himself. Even when he was drunk and waxing purple prose in his mind, nothing nice came out of his mouth. Not that he wanted it to. That would be a disaster. He watched her head snap around like she hadn't been expecting him to speak.

"Yep, born and bred. You, too?"

Before he could lie, he found himself answering honestly and downing a little more of the liquid courage in his cup. 

"What brings you to India?"

He wasn't curious. Didn't need to be curious. He was just being polite. It wasn't fair that the way she wrinkled her nose and sighed was adorable. He had been spending way too much of his time with disgustingly sick people if one pretty backpacker was making him go to pieces.

"Soul searching. I'm backpacking trying to figure out what to do with my life. I got a political science degree, but something happened while I was finishing my credits and...."

He watched her hand gesture vaguely in the air, knowing exactly the feeling she was describing. What was your life's work in the face of a revelation? Not that he had any idea what her revelation was. It could simply be that she broke up with her boyfriend, after all. He didn't know her well enough to tell how life shattering it had been.

"It just seemed a little pointless when I got done."

He found himself nodding and returning her gesture with his cup.

"I know what you mean. For me it was a lab accident. So now I wander the world."

Bruce almost threw his cup and pressed his palms to his face right then and there. Compared to how low he'd been going under the radar, it was like he was suddenly announcing his position to the world and all the organizations looking for him.

"So you're some sort of doctor?"

What the hell, he thought. In for a penny in for a pound.

"Yeah, some sort of."

But maybe he could keep from flashing neon lights around the pound at least. He almost jumped when her hand appeared in his personal space. It took him a second to remind himself he was supposed to shake it.

"Darcy."

"Bruce."

He really was being a daredevil if he was giving out his first name along with his nationality and profession. He couldn't help but think that maybe the soft skin of her hand in his was worth having to hide a little harder and run a little faster the next few days. He took notice when the woman across from them seemed to multiple by eight and the chatter seemed to up by thrice that. He took more notice, however, of the way Darcy leaned towards him. Her breast was almost touching his arm. He tried not to feel like he was back in high school.

"You getting any of that?"

He chuckled. He hadn't been listening to even one word of the women's conversation, and even if he had his translation book was back with his kit in one of the bedrooms.

"About one word in ten. I haven't been in this part of India very long."

"Better than what I'm getting."

It wasn't too hard to make an educated guess at what they might be talking about, though.

"Either they're discussing recipes, or someone's getting engaged. I'm not quite sure."

He was surprised when she bought it and wondered what else he could tell her; which was horrible of him, but he didn't get to have much fun nowadays and he tried to take it where he could. Even if it had to come from tricking a beautiful woman into believing bullshit.

"Huh. You wouldn't think those two things would be so similar."

"Actually, it's pretty fascinating. A lot of Indian engagement customs involve exchanges of food between the brides’ and grooms’ families..."

He trailed off and turned to look at her face. Instead of seeing a blank inattentive look, she seemed to be watching his face avidly. At least what he had been telling her was true. He'd read it in one of the used guidebooks he'd picked up.

"I’m sorry; you probably aren't interested in that."

Her grin lit up her face, and he was returning to the purple prose that had invaded his thoughts earlier, stole his breath a little.

"You're interesting enough, Doc."

He could feel his cheeks heat up at the compliment and felt a little worse for his lie earlier.

"Ah...thank you."

And then the devil in the back of his mind, not The Other Guy, but the one that had been there before his lab accident, the plain old devil of his conscience asked him what else he could get away with. She thought he was _interesting_. How interesting? Before he stopped himself the words were out of his mouth.

"They _are_ talking about an engagement."

"Oh yeah? Whose?"

Purposefully, he cut his eyes to look at her reaction and sucked in a breath. She was giving off the signals that claimed she was attracted to him, so what if he wanted to prod at them a little. He certainly couldn't have his fun with her in any other way.

" _Ours._ "

He watched her throw back her head and laugh. A long curl fell out of place and his fingers twitched to touch it.

"Is that so?"

He raised his eyebrows at her.

"You think it's funny?"

Darcy nodded and it was a fight for him to hold still as she leaned in closer.

"It's not like they'll be able to force us into getting married, and I've got the feeling being your wife wouldn't be a horrible thing, anyway. You're a doctor and you're nice enough to blush at a simple compliment. You can't be the devil in disguise like my grandma says some men are."

Her frank, honest, but still somehow flattering assessment threw him for a loop. He had been expecting her to laugh it off and take it as the joke he had intended it to be, not actually asses the possibility of their engagement. It was forcing him to think more seriously about it too, and he wasn't sure he liked that. It would be something else to have a wife like her, beautiful from head to toe, and still full of life. Not that he was considering such a thing. The Other Guy, silent up until that point decided to make himself and what might have been a mutual interest in Darcy known. Bruce forced himself to stop looking at her blue eyes and full lips and pressed The Other Guy down as deep as he could.

"I might have anger management issues, a wife back home, or five mouths to feed."

He hadn't meant to say. He _certainly_ hadn't meant to present it in quite the way he had, but it seemed to have done the work it was meant to when she leaned back.

"If you were worried about mouths to feed or a wife, you wouldn't be wandering the world, I don't think. So you must have anger management issues. At least you've recognized your problem. I still think you're pretty eligible."

 _Christ_ , she had cut through his shit. His foggy mind didn't have much more to offer up against her.

"Aren't you a little young for me?"

"Not in India, and it's only really scandalous if you're rich and I'm a gold digger. If we were nice enough to each other, people would forget about our ages pretty quick, I'm sure."

Bruce could admit that he gaped a little. It wasn't often that he spoke at such length with a woman, especially not one who was gorgeous and slowly, but relentlessly, poking holes in his logic.

"You really mean that."

"Sure, why not? How about we make it a conditional engagement? In the morning, you go one way, and I go the other. If we ever meet again, we promise to get married, as long as we aren't currently attached to someone else."

A _conditional_ engagement? He could feel his mouth drop open a little further that time, and before he could even begin to process her offer, she was kissing him. Distantly, he realized the matron and her friends were in a tizzy, but he couldn't quite bring himself to care. It took him another moment to notice he hadn't actually given Darcy any response. Deciding to rectify that immediately, he gave into his urge to place a hand on the soft skin of her cheek and bury his other hand in her hair. It was slightly oily under his hand, echoing his early observations about her travel worn state, but that didn't matter at all. She was soft in every way from the plush give of her lips against his, to the way her thigh pressed against his on their cushions. He had half a mind to haul her forward into his lap, but an extra high twitter from the women across from them stopped him.

"Darcy..."

He marveled at the way she grinned and pressed her forehead to his unreservedly.

"Bruce....What do you say?"

He licked his lips intending to refuse, to turn down the offer of a conditional engagement, but her eyes flickered down watching him and his resolve broke. It wasn't like he'd ever see her again. She'd find herself, go back to America, and he'd be doctoring the ailing in third world areas for the rest of his life.

"I say....I say, okay."

He grinned when she whooped and kissed him again.

True to the arrangement, after spending a pleasant night in conversation, interspersed with kisses, Bruce and Darcy left the small Indian town in separate directions the next morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No fear. This is going to turn into a series. I just...am trying to finish Linger first....maybe. /sobs

**Author's Note:**

> In case you missed it at the top a chatroom for Bruce/Darcy and Hulk/Darcy discussion has been established. It's through AIM and called ElectricGreen 
> 
> Come join us!


End file.
